It is over four months now since I started riding the bullet. It is a wonderful experience handling this huge thing. The following is a poem on my bike, which is also the fourth poem of my life…:P
Bullet is more than a bike..
It hits the road like a pike..
Comfort is what it feels like..
As in running in a spike..
.
Rallying in the bullet..
Empties the wallet..
For what you get in return..
Is a ride without any concern!…
Back in primary school it meant to convince my friends about the pencil box tree in my backyard and the swimming pool at my stairs.
Then in high school it meant to make my parents believe that report card wont be sent home due to the fire at school.
And in college it meant; to fake severe aches for help in assignments, to fake (to prof) that those were self-written.
In the short period of industry exposure it meant to project my irritating bugs as wonderful features.
Finally today, it was to present a new algorithm to my professor (read it as perfectionist) in a subject he is GOD at and to get it approved. And my idea has been approved! The couple of sleepless nights were not fruitless!! 
